Alien Barbarian’s Little Human

21. Magog

The scream rips through the air, piercing my ears and making myself and Nerita wince. We turn our gazes toward the bedroom door just in time to see our youngest, Flash, vanish around the corner and out of sight.

“I thought you locked the bedroom door,” I say.

“I thought you did.” Nerita chuckles and pats me on the cheek. “Come on, put on your pants. We’d better go deal with this.”

“But you are the ones who designated Saturday Snuggle Sessions.”

“And you’re the one who keeps insisting on them. I was just saying that as a one off to be cute, but I digress. Our youngest son just saw us having sex. We need to have the Talk with him, and we might as well get his brothers and sisters in on it, too.”

“Some of them have already had the Talk.”

“Yes, and they’ll make it less awkward.”

We get dressed. I take time to admire her naked body one last time before she covers it up with a sarong and bikini top. Even after eight children and fifteen years, she looks just as beautiful as she did when we first wed.

The Jalshagar bond allows us to share lifeforce, meaning her brief human lifespan will extend to match my own. Nobody really knows how long a Vakutan lives, because a Vakutan who dies of old age is legendary. As in you will hear of them but never actually see one.

I head out into the hallway of our massive tree complex. We moved a short distance away from the settlement when our family started to expand. It’s just easier to keep the kids out of trouble that way.

And oh boy, can half-vakutan children find trouble to get themselves into.

I thrust my head out of the window and bellow to the tropical jungle.

“Children! Gather together at the base of the great tree!”

“Yes, Papa,” shouts Goru, our second youngest.

“Yes, Papa,” says Dyrion, our eldest daughter.

“Yeah, yeah, coming you old fart,” says our middle son, Genexicus.

Our children gather together in the jungle gym beneath the tree, some of them on swings, others hanging out in the sand pit. But there’s one missing.

“Has anyone seen Flash?”

A lot of head shaking, but my middle daughter Alyna chimes in, not bothering to look up from her holonet pad.

“He’s hiding in the closet because he walked in on you two doing the nasty.”

“Language,” Nerita gasps. “And don’t call it the nasty. There’s nothing nasty about it.”

“Gross, mom!”

“We just wanted to give the Talk--”

“Oh by the Precursors, please don’t do that! I already talked to Flash about the Curds and the Whees.”

“You mean the birds and the bees?” I ask.

“Close enough.”

I sigh.

“Very well. Just remember, children, that you should always, always knock before you come into Mommy and Daddy’s room. Even if it’s at an odd time, like the middle of the day--”

Our children groan in disgust and flee. I look over at my love and shrug.

“I’ll find Flash and talk to him later, despite what his older siblings have said. Do you have any regrets?”

“Are you kidding? This is the perfect family,” she says, her blue eyes more lovely than a bright morning sky. “Because it’s my family. Our family.”

I take her in my arms, and kiss her once again. I will never get tired of this.

And I think there’s room in the treehouse for nine children, after all.

The End